


Customer Service

by simply_gorgeous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: ALSO not beta read, F/M, Grocery Shopping, Kylo is kinda rude, Not Serious, Please Don't Take This Seriously, Rey kinda likes it, don't know how THIS one got finished, late-night encounters, sigh..., trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26036212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simply_gorgeous/pseuds/simply_gorgeous
Summary: Rey knew she wasn't going to make it up to the checkout counter on time. She also knew that making a customer service worker a few minutes late in closing the store was hardly the worst thing that could happen to a service worker in a day.Rey didnotknow, however, that said service worker had no qualms about denying customers service. Or being outright rude. Or being...surprisingly handsome.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	Customer Service

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely nothing to say for myself. 
> 
> This is one of my least favorite projects; it's not milestone length or particularly clever, but it IS total trash. And yet SOMEHOW this is the one that gets finished?!
> 
> Heavens, help.
> 
> Enjoy if you will; cheers!

Rey raced her shopping cart through the aisles, making a beeline for the registers. It was two minutes until closing, and though the overhead speakers had given four reminders in the past hour, she hadn’t had enough time to get through her list. 

The self-checkout lanes had been closed, but there was a register up at the customer service desk whose light was still glowing, she steered her cart in that direction and made record time. The red light glared harshly as if scolding her for daring to be the last customer of the night. Rey smiled at it in determination, channeling the one rule that had seen her through many dark days; be cheerful and grateful, and most people will be willing to help. She began piling her things on the counter with a rush of relief that she had made it while shaking her head; why was she trying to sway the opinion of an inanimate object, was she crazy? 

No. Just over-worked, sleep-deprived, and out of breath. 

Once she had about half of her items ready for check-out, she realized there was still no clerk at the desk to assist her. Clearing her throat, she chimed a “hello?”

Footsteps sounded from the back room just as the high-pitched recording declared the store was closed and wished the patrons a good evening. At the last pitch of the automated message, an absolute mountain of a man strode out of the backroom and up to the opposite side of the counter, looming over her.

Rey smiled nervously, worried the associate might be in a foul mood because of her tardiness and not thrilled at the prospect of irritating such a giant man. Rey didn’t normally judge people based on their looks, but by the maker, the man was big! 

The hair that reached to his shoulders was thick and voluminous in the way most women spent countless hours and beauty products trying to achieve. His arms were sculpted with muscle—a lot of it too—especially given his occupation. Even his hands were large as long, thick fingers came up to tap across his screen, but instead of scanning her items, the lights to the registers blinked off as the system shut down. 

Rey froze, orange juice hovering in hand midway between her cart and the counter for several seconds before she was able to gather her wits enough to react.

“What, what—wait! You can’t do that! What about my items?” Rey sputtered.

The man’s staid expression never wavered; if anything, behind the bored face there was annoyance. 

“We’re closed. You’ll have to come back some other time to make a purchase.”

“You can’t be serious!”

He was.

Rey’s eyebrows were glued to her hairline, rage sweeping across her like a wave to mingle with the astonishment. 

“I was up here before closing! It isn’t my fault you were in the back!”

“You wouldn’t have had enough time to ring everything up anyway.”

He crossed those muscled arms, unapologetic, and Rey could only stand and stare, anger heating her blood as she mumbled,

“Well, you’re certainly in the wrong place.”

Of course he had to hear her.

“Sorry?” It wasn’t a question; it sounded a whole lot more like a threat. 

Stealing her nerves, Rey squared her shoulders and locked her eyes directly on his. She never had been able to walk away from a fight.

“Customer service. Considering you have a similar effect on people as a swarm of hornets, you’d think they’d have hidden you behind closed doors restocking or something of the sort.”

His eyebrow twitched. Rey knew her words were likely to prompt him to disappear back “behind closed doors,” but the mocking glint in his eye said he wouldn’t let her off that easily.

“It is your responsibility to find and purchase your items in a timely fashion so that the workers can go home at a reasonable time,” he droned. “It is not their fault some people can’t keep time. Additionally, there are pre-recorded announcements in place to give reminders to anyone who forgets that the store does, in fact, close.”

Sands, it was like he was reading from a company policy. A rude one. 

Normally, Rey was a cheerful person. She was known for being lighthearted and fun-loving. She was polite to everyone she came across—her creepy landlord, Plutt, being the exception—but she was also stubborn. And tomorrow she would be hungry. So she pushed it, her smile coming forced and stiff.

“I did the best I could, and I have a job that doesn’t allow for me to come during the day. I hardly think a few more minutes could kill you.”

The man shifted, giving her a haughty eyebrow that seemed to ask what she was already thinking; there was little likelihood that anything short of a nuclear strike was _capable_ of killing this mountain of a man.

After ten seconds of silence that felt more like ten minutes and far more than social decorum dictated acceptable for this type of situation, Rey grew impatient. 

Cocking a hand on her hip, she asked, maybe petulantly, “are you going to ring me up or not?”

“I’m not.” 

Of all the—fine. But if she wasn’t going to get her groceries tonight, Rey was not above taking out her future hunger on the unhelpful and insubordinate hunk of a man in front of her.

Abandoning her cart to lean over the counter and stare him down, er—up, stare him up, the man really was so tall, she lowered her voice to a near growl in order to threaten him properly. 

“I’m not usually the type of person to do this, but I am going to report you to your manager.” He didn’t react, and the last thread of Rey’s patience snapped like a tangible thing. “This is ridiculous,” —she threw her hands in the air— “and _terrible_ customer service!”

At this, the man’s gaze sharpened on her, and he leaned across the counter on his elbows in a way that made his shoulders look like the Great Wall of China. Rey drew back abruptly, the invasion of personal space making her bristle.

“I am the manager, so if you want to complain; go ahead.”

Rey didn’t know which was more surprising; the fact that this abrasive man with a total of zero people skills was a manager...of _people_ , or that he had really shut down the last register in front of her face. 

“Then I’m writing corporate,” she shot back, determined not to back down. “I’m sure more than one employee will thank me. And how is it you have time to hear my complaint but not ring me up?”

The man, whose hair was only a shade darker brown than his eyes, tilted his head in thought. Not serious thought, mind you. No, there was nothing contemplative or contrite about it. Rather, the gesture was sarcastic and antagonistic, and it was at that moment Rey realized two things. 

One, besides being a complete and total—well, the word she was thinking of would not be appreciated by sweet and innocent Rose, that’s for sure—the man was painfully attractive. His face was a beautiful mess of dark eyes, plush lips, a big nose, and a smattering of moles creating constellations on his face that shouldn’t be attractive but were. 

The second realization was that as rude as he was, she kind of liked it. She liked the fight. 

Growing up an orphan taught her how to fight. She became a fighter and had come to accept that part of herself with enthusiasm. But Finn wouldn’t fight with her. He and Rose were probably the sweetest people on the planet—though Rose did have a fierce streak—and both of them preferred to just let her have her way if she felt strongly enough about it to start a fight. Her other friend, Poe, did tease her about her retaliative tendencies, but he never really engaged with her. 

But this man...this perfect stranger who was _preventing her from picking up groceries_ was all too willing to fight and too willing to antagonize and too tall and too gorgeous, and Rey _liked it._

“It would have taken longer to ring up your items than the store would have been open, and I was executing closing procedures in the back, knowing that anyone dumb enough to still be here wouldn’t have enough time to check out.”

He was taunting her, and the smirk pulling at the side of his mouth told her he was counting on her realizing it. 

“But, as the store manager, you see, it is in my best interest to listen to any complaints.”

“Like you care,” Rey fired back, trying not to show her surprise at his being the _store_ manager, not just a department lead which had seemed fabricated enough.

“Of course not,” he shrugged, smirking openly. “But knowing the complaint beforehand tends to do wonders with bending the ear of corporate to my side.”

Rey hissed a name at him through her teeth that Rose _definitely_ wouldn’t appreciate, but the man across the counter seemed to take it as a compliment. 

Resting her elbows on the counter and tilting her head, Rey asked, 

“What is your name, anyway? You don’t have a name tag. Although,” she cut him off as he opened his mouth, “I’m sure ‘bending the ear of corporate’ is much easier when customers aren’t able to provide a name.”

He scoffed, but Rey caught a glimpse of amusement in it.

“If I’m to take a liability, then I’ll need even ground. What’s yours?”

“Rey.”

“Kylo.”

“That’s a weird name.”

“As a woman with a man’s name, that’s just the pot calling the kettle black.”

“R– _E_ –Y,” she grit between teeth, internally conceding she had put herself at disadvantage with the name but stubbornly trying not to show it. “Like a rey of sunshine.”

“There is nothing sunny about you.”

Rey felt obligated to oppose that remark simply because it was so grossly inaccurate. 

“I will have you know, when not being denied the purchase of items necessary to daily survival such as food” —pointed look— “I am extremely pleasant to be around. Something I doubt you can claim for yourself.”

Maker, his smile. It was disarming. She was disarmed. His eyes were alive with interest and engagement, and she could swear he seemed almost happy.

“You mean to imply I act this way when I’m not protecting the boundaries of store hours and service?” 

He tsked, and a touch of guilt skirted the edges of her mind. Maybe she had misjudged him; it could be possible. She certainly had had her fair share of bad days and didn’t come across—

“You’re right; I’m pretty much the same.”

She opened her mouth to say…what exactly she had no idea—she was good with quick retorts and pushing others’ buttons so she often spoke before thinking things through—but she stopped, noticing his eyes raking over her form in a manner different from the rest of the night.

There was heat in them. 

“I—I…” Her mouth felt like sandpaper, and she cursed the impulse that had caused her to say anything to begin with. Quick retort, nothing. “I, um, I should get going. I can put the milk back in the refri—”

“Don’t worry about it; there’s a fridge in the back.”

She should have made a smart remark about how having a refrigerator in the back room only enabled his rude refusal to help late customers, but his gaze was still intense, and Rey was beginning to feel too warm, heartbeat picking up from something other than anger this time. 

“Okay. Goodnight, then.”

She turned, grabbing her purse and leaving the cart. She had not made it more than two steps freezing when his rich timbre called her name.

Inclining her head, she raised an eyebrow in question, trying not to dwell on the planes of his chest as he straightened to his full height and crossed his arms.

“I could just let you _have_ the groceries, but that would throw off inventory, and it’d be so much easier to take you out to dinner instead.”

Her stomach flipped, and excitement raced through Rey’s whole body. 

He was _flirting!_

His eyes narrowed as if he was expecting her to laugh in his face or call him a creep. And maybe Rey should. But if she did, she was a total hypocrite because the thrill that had run through her the second he refused to ring up her purchase had not abated—if anything, it had grown. So she spun on her heel and approached the counter once more with a grave expression that held enough sarcasm to let him know she was interested.

“As tempting as your offer is,” —she leaned over the counter and peered up at him through her lashes— “ _one_ dinner isn’t going to make up for the loss of a week’s worth of groceries.” She gave a baiting smile. “Do better.”

She watched as her words evoked a fascinating response in the man before her. His throat worked, and the muscles of his arms flexed, relaxed, then flexed again, and his eyes searched her face before settling on her lips, and— _wait, her lips?_

He swooped down and captured her mouth in his before she could process another thought, and the second after, she lost all semblance of thought process entirely. Her hands came up of their own accord to fist in his shirt as his threaded through her hair. Her senses were assaulted with _him_ —the woody hint of aftershave, the plushness of his lips, the overwhelming feeling of being held by such large hands. 

Sands, but the man had a talent for kissing.

When he pulled back, Rey was breathing heavily, face flushed and heart thumping wildly in her chest. She blinked up at him, still processing the unexpected kiss. For his part, his lips were slightly swollen as he ran his tongue over them looking positively _hungry_ , but body language betraying his uncertainty of her desires and consent. 

Her lips split into a grin.

“Well, that is quite an intriguing alternative. Take me out to dinner and we can work on the details from there.”

The next fifteen minutes were spent throwing the contents of her cart, both refrigerated and not, into the appliance in the back, turning off the store lights, and locking the doors behind them, kisses littered throughout. And by the end of the night, Rey decided that despite her initial impression; Kylo Ren was, in fact, _most_ proficient in the area of customer service.


End file.
